Heal Me
by nothinparticular
Summary: A couple years after the war, Narcissa is working as a Healer at St. Mungo's. Through chance - or is it fate - her path keeps crossing that of one Hermione Granger... #postHogwarts, eventually #CissaMione
1. Chapter 1

"Healer Black?"  
The blonde mediwitch stopped in her tracks and turned around to walk into the room the voice had called from, internally preparing for the conversation she knew was to come. Because after already having this exact conversation yesterday as well as the day before, she couldn't help the sliver of annoyance that crept into her being.  
"Mrs. Thistle," she forced a smile onto her face as she approached the old witch in the hospital bed. "How are you doing today?"  
"I am feeling rather well, thank you. And that is why I wanted to speak to you, Healer Black. You see, I feel healthy enough to return home and-"  
"Mrs. Thistle, haven't I explained this just yesterday?" Narcissa pulled on gloves and gently examined the old woman's ears. The inflammation was still there as were the little tufts of orange fur that were slowly growing back. "You have to remain here until the jinx is fully lifted, ma'am. You are lucky that your neighbor isn't very adept in wandless magic or you might very well have a matching tail and snout. And while I personally think that the cat ears were rather cute, I believe you would prefer it if there remained no trace of them at all?"  
"I do. Of course, I do. But my Sally turns five this weekend and-"  
"Mrs. Thistle, your ears look good enough that I believe you'll make a full recovery in the next two or three days. And I know you love your cats and do not wish to miss their birthday but trust me, Sally will be more than happy to be celebrated a day or two after." Narcissa briefly squeezed the 102-year-old's shoulder. "Rest and be patient and the rest will take care of itself. I will examine you again tomorrow and Healer Ming will come to apply the salve later this evening."  
"All right, Healer Black, I shall try to be patient. Have a good evening."  
"You too, ma'am."  
And just a little more tired than before, Narcissa left Mrs. Thistle's room and continued on her way to the staff room, hoping to catch a small break and a cup of tea before her evening rounds.  
However, it seemed fate had a different idea.  
Because when she rounded the corner, one of the nurses was already waving her over, frantically trying to keep a man and a woman from wandering off before they could even be admitted.  
"Nurse Swenson?"  
"These Muggles were flown here all the way from Australia," the young wizard explained, handing her a clipboard. "The Healer who examined them in Perth seems to think that they have gone through a memory charm gone wrong. They were found by a wizarding family who thought that they behaved rather oddly – even for Muggles – so they alerted the officials. Healer McLeod decided to transfer them to London as we have the best spell damage ward worldwide."  
Narcissa nodded after having gone through the mediwizard's notes. "Take them to room 23 and get them settled in, see that the elves know not to bring them supper themselves. Have another nurse bring it. Maybe also put one of the 'Muggle' signs on their door. We do not need them any more scared or confused than they already are. I will check on them before my evening rounds."  
"Yes, ma'am." The young nurse blushed and rushed off, struggling to keep the two Muggles at his side but finally succeeding to usher them into the mentioned room.  
Narcissa on the other hand quickly slipped into the staff room, poured herself a cup of herbal tea, and took a bite of a turkey sandwich, moaning in pleasure.  
"Long day?"  
The 'intruder' surprised her so much that she almost choked on a piece of cucumber.  
"Minerva!" she coughed and cleared her throat until she was able to breathe freely once more. "What are you doing here?"  
The old witch chuckled and briefly stepped forward to peck the blonde's cheeks.  
"I am here to visit Alice and Frank," she said, smiling at her former student. "And I decided to see how you are doing while I'm here. How are things with your colleagues?"  
"Healer Ling is nice enough and I work well with Nurse Swenson even though he does still make a lot of mistakes sometimes. The others... well…" Narcissa trailed off, opting to take a sip of her tea instead.  
"Old prejudices die hard," Minerva sighed, sinking down into one of the uncomfortable looking chairs only to learn that they weren't only looking that way. No wonder Narcissa remained standing. "But I am preying to the choir. You must know this better than almost anyone."  
"I do," Narcissa agreed. "And it might be difficult but I knew that before you helped me acquire the position. I am grateful for this chance and I won't throw it away because of a few spiteful words or disgusted looks. I am a Black after all. We don't break easily."  
"Good. I am glad, Narcissa, I really am. I always grieved the potential you threw away by doing as you were told and marrying Lucius. It is good to see you follow your own wishes now that you are finally free of him and the expectations of your family."  
"And it is all thanks to you," Narcissa gave the older witch a genuine smile. "Now, your visit was a nice surprise but I have to get back to work. I have two new patients as well as nine others who are waiting for me." She helped Minerva to her feet, watching with amusement as the headmistress stretched and glared at the chair she'd just vacated. Somebody should really throw these out…

* * *

"Good evening," Narcissa said as she walked into room 23, noting with relief that both Muggles were still where they were supposed to be. And judging from the empty dishes, they had eaten as well. Good. Sometimes memory charms went so terribly wrong that people starved to death or died because they simply forgot to sleep. It was a horrible thing to witness. "I am Dr. Black," she introduced herself, using the Muggle title as she'd read from the pamphlet about treating Muggles. "I heard that you are having some kind of amnesia? Do you remember your names? Anything at all?"  
"This is my wife, Dr. Black," the Muggle man nodded at the woman sitting on the bed next to him. "But I cannot recall her name nor can I recall my own. And I can't even remember marrying her..." He shook his head, confusion clearly his main emotion. "She is… she's worse off than I am though, isn't she? I had to spoon-feed her the soup and she hasn't said a single word ever since... ever since... I don't remember."  
"It is quite all right, sir, you and your wife will receive our very best care," Narcissa tried to calm the man, unsure of how to continue next. She'd have to run a series of diagnostic spells but she didn't want to agitate them further by waving around with her wand. She could examine them after administering some Sleeping Draught but Narcissa didn't want to risk it with their unknown conditions. Potions could have unforeseen effects on Muggles. If something went wrong… No, she wouldn't risk it.  
Maybe she could transfigure her wand to look like something else? There was a photo of a Muggle doctor in that brochure, wasn't there? Maybe her wand should look like one of these things they were always wearing around their necks? Yes, that could actually work.  
She excused herself and briefly left the room.  
"Accio 'How to treat your very first Muggle' brochure."  
Narcissa swiftly caught the magazine in her hand and quickly skimmed through the pages until she found what she was looking for. So they called this a stethoscope? What a strange name.  
With some effort and wandless magic – after all her wand was the object for transfiguration – she eventually managed to make it look like the real thing. She'd have to cast the diagnostic spells non-verbally though. No point in hiding her wand if she was shouting spells at them.  
Narcissa tiredly massaged her neck. This was going to be a long evening yet.

* * *

After doing a first gentle examination of the Muggle couple and going on her evening rounds, Narcissa was finally free to go home. Or almost at least.  
She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go to bed but she had promised Draco and Astoria to meet them at the Manor for a quick evening cap, so she would do just that.  
She shrugged out of her lime-green Healer robes and donned a pair of black dress pants and a grey blouse, leaving behind the bustle of the wizarding hospital and entering Muggle London.  
The blonde rounded the corner of the elegant Muggle boutique that hid their hospital and disapparated once she was certain that no-one was around to witness her disappear.  
A moment later she arrived at the gates of Malfoy Manor, frowning at the sound of her plop. Usually, she had to strain her ears to even hear the sound of her apparition... She must've really dipped into her magic storage.  
Running her left hand through her hair, she placed the other on the handle of the large iron gate, watching as it swung open before her. The blood magic wards around Malfoy Manor were strong and while she wasn't a Malfoy by blood or even by marriage these days, they still recognized the fact that it was her son who lived here and treated her as 'family'.

"Mother," Draco came to the door himself, pulling his mother inside and into a long embrace. "I have splendid news. Come, Astoria is waiting for us in the sitting room."  
She smiled at her son's obvious happiness and hung up her coat, swiftly following him into the sitting room where she was greeted by Astoria who raised from one of the couches to kiss her cheeks.  
"Narcissa," the brunette smiled widely. "It is so nice to see you. Please, take a seat. Would you like some tea?"  
"That'd be lovely," Narcissa agreed, sitting down in the old armchair that had once belonged to her former father-in-law, Abraxas Malfoy. It was the most uncomfortable chair in the whole Manor and exactly what she needed right now if she didn't want to nod off.  
"Winky," Astoria called out for their house-elf and the tiny elf appeared not a moment later. "Would you please bring us some tea? Perhaps a few biscuits as well?"  
"Yes, Mistress Malfoy. Winky shall be right back."  
They waited until the elf had returned and once everyone was nursing a nice hot cup of tea, Draco cleared his throat to get his mother's attention.  
"Mother, Astoria and I are expecting a baby." His eyes were bright with joy and excitement.  
"You are? Oh, that's wonderful news, Draco," Narcissa was wide awake after her son's announcement, his joy quite contagious. "I am so very happy for the both of you. How far along are you, Astoria?"  
"Almost fifteen weeks. We wanted to wait before we tell anyone in case-" the young witch trailed off and Narcissa could see the hint of sadness in her eyes.  
So she took one of her hands and looked her straight into the eyes. "This baby will be perfectly fine, I can feel it. And now you have your personal Healer at your beck and call. I know the pregnancy won't be easy on you with your blood malediction but all of us together we will get you through it. Do you hear me?"  
"Yes, yes… thank you, Narcissa," Astoria gave her a grateful nod, dabbing at her wet eyes.  
"I can't wait to meet my grandchild," Narcissa stood up, pressing a kiss to Draco's forehead like she'd done uncountable times before. "Now unfortunately, I have to leave as I have to get some rest before my night shift tomorrow. But come see me next week at the hospital, yes? I'll squeeze you in."  
"We will. Thank you for stopping by, mother. Have a good night."

* * *

"Healer Black!" Swenson was on her heels as soon as she stepped through the charmed boutique window the next evening. "We have an emergency at the ward and all the other healers are busy with patients. A little girl..."  
"Lead the way."  
Narcissa followed the young wizard to a room where she was awaited by utter pandemonium.  
Two dark-haired children were noisily chasing each other around the bed while a young man – whom Narcissa immediately recognized as George Weasley by the hole in his left ear – was holding onto a little redheaded girl who was sobbing into his chest.  
"Mr. Weasley," Narcissa politely greeted the young man, hoping he'd react in kind. Their families had never seen eye to eye and the feud was almost traditional these days. One had to wonder which of their ancestors had started it.  
"Mrs. Malfoy," the Weasley boy seemed surprised but not antagonistic.  
"It's Black," she corrected him, making her way further into the room to shake his hand.  
"I uh, we had a little accident at the shop," George Weasley admitted, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "I'd offered to watch my niece for my brother so he could have a romantic dinner with his wife. If they get here before Rosie is back to normal..."  
"So you are Rosie then?" Narcissa approached the child who was clutching onto her uncle's shirt and still sobbing uncontrollably, her sobs only interrupted by a few hiccups.  
"What happened, Mr. Weasley?"  
"She must've gotten a hold of one of my new sweets. I call them 'Floating Flubbers'. They're still a prototype though and have never been tested and now... well.… I found Rosie floating at the ceiling of the joke shop."  
"So you're saying your niece is floating because of something she ate?"  
"Exactly," the man nodded his head so fast, Narcissa waa surprised his neck didn't protest.  
"Very well. I'll need you to help Rosie onto the bed and hold onto her feet so I can examine her, can you do that for me?"  
"Y-yes, of course."  
"Good. And I'd appreciate it if you told your children to either sit still and be quiet or play down the hall in the waiting room. I need to be able to concentrate and hear."  
"Of course. Fred, Roxy, go play in the waiting room. I'll come and get you once the healer has helped your cousin."  
"Okay, dad," the boy nodded at his father, then took his sister's hand into his own and led her out of the room. Not a moment later, they could be heard racing each other down the hallway towards the waiting room.  
Narcissa smiled at that. They seemed to take after their father and his deceased twin.  
"Well, let's get started, Mr. Weasley."  
The blonde waited until the wizard had done as instructed but it took her another moment to coax the little girl to let go off her uncle so she could examine her.  
"Rosie, sweetheart, can you look at me?" Narcissa sweetly asked the child, bending down a little so she was on her eye-level. "I'm Narcissa," she calmly introduced herself, pointing to the little name tag on her green robes. "I know you're frightened right now, sweetheart, but I promise you're perfectly safe here with me and your uncle George. He'll hold onto your ankles so I can find out how to get you to stop floating, isn't that so, Mr. Weasley?"  
"Yes. I've got you, Rosie, you can let go for the healer."  
"See, Rosie? Now, can you let go for me?"  
The little girl's honey brown eyes finally met Narcissa's as she shyly nodded. Then, after only a moment of hesitation, the girl let go.  
"See, sweetheart, that wasn't so bad, was it? Now I'll just run a couple of spells on you and then you can go back into your uncle's arms, okay?"  
Another tiny nod.  
"It won't hurt at all. It might tickle a little though, so I hope you're not as ticklish as my son."  
"I'm not," the red-haired child proudly declared, the tears finally subsiding and even being replaced by a small smile.  
"All the better then," Narcissa smiled back and drew her wand, whispering a few examining spells as she swiftly moved her wand through the air in front of her.  
Once she was done, she briefly touched the girl's little nose with the tip of her wand, making her giggle as colourful stars erupted from her nostrils.  
"Oh wow," Narcissa feigned innocence. "Did you sneeze, Rosie? My, I've never seen such a magical sneeze before!"  
"You're silly," the child laughed, totally having forgotten about her little 'problem'. "That was you."  
"Me? No, it couldn't have been. I didn't do anything at all." Narcissa smirked, put back her wand, and pulled a small lollipop from her coat, handing it to her patient. "That one is for you, for being the bravest girl in the entire hospital."  
Narcissa turned to the worried Weasley. "You can let go off her now, Mr. Weasley. The effects of your new invention have to wear off on their own, however, I have placed a 'Gravitas' charm on her feet, so she won't be in danger of flying off to any faraway places anytime soon. I suggest we keep her overnight though. We don't want to be caught unaware by any possible side effects of your 'Floating Flubber' after all."  
"Thank you," he said, only somewhat relieved. He'd still have to let Hermione and Ron know what had happened after all, especially now that Rose had to stay.  
"Well, I'll have to go and see to my other patients now but if there is anything you need, just have a nurse find me. If you want, I can let your children know to come back here?"  
"Oh yes, please, that would be great. Thank you."  
Narcissa nodded, winked at little Rosie who was now sitting on the bed and contently sucking on her lollipop, then left the room. She wondered if Mr. Weasley had already thought of his own mother's reaction to the little accident. Molly Weasley's howlers had been infamous during her son's Hogwarts years. Of course Draco had always gleefully told her of each and every one of them...

* * *

 **AN:** _I appreciate every form of feedback you can spare, whether it be a follow, a favorite, or even something as awesome as a review. I really like this idea so far and hope I can get some of you to hop onto the train!_

 _Please let me know how I'm doing and pose questions if you have any :-)_


	2. Chapter 2

Another hour into her shift, Narcissa eventually found a minute to chat to Healer Ling about the events of the evening. Apparently a group of young wizards had taken the concept of a joke a bit too far and accidentally hexed their whole street – Wizarding and Muggle families alike – to uncontrollably spew beans, peas, and carrots from their ears and noses, causing utter chaos both here and at the Ministry which had to clean up the whole mess and get everyone admitted as well as the Muggles obliviated once they'd received treatment.  
"Examination Room 2 looks like a market stall exploded," Karen Ling laughed as she told the story to her colleague. "The nurses are all grumbling to themselves because they have to clean it up without using magic to not disturb the sensitive instruments in the room."  
"I can relate," Narcissa shook her head in amused disbelief. Now she knew where Nurse Swenson had run off to. She would lie if she said she envied him.  
"How was your night so far?" the other woman asked, seeming sincere in her interest.  
"Well, I had to cast a 'Gravitas' spell on a three-year-old because her uncle didn't lock his sweets away… Oh, and I told Mrs. Thistle that she will be able to leave by the end of my shift tomorrow morning. She is very excited to get back home to her cats. I just hope her neighbor has learned his lesson and won't hex her again..."  
"Oh, I bet he won't try anything. I heard that her neighbor has to do 'community service' at the local Muggle pet shelter… I'm sure he's ecstatic about spending some quality time with the cats there..."  
"Well, maybe he'll yet turn into a pet lover. One never knows," Narcissa smirked.  
"Care to go for a quick coffee break?" Karen Ling slightly blushed as she posed the question but Narcissa didn't even notice because most of her attention had just wandered elsewhere, to room 27 to be exact. A young couple had just entered the little girl's room and already loud voices could be heard spilling into the mostly deserted hallway.  
"Maybe another time," Narcissa briefly touched her colleague's shoulder to show her that she appreciated the offer, then began walking down the corridor. "I should go and check on them before we have to find a bed for Mr. Weasley as well. See you later."  
"Yes, of course..."  
Narcissa was too far away by then to hear the hint of disappointment in the other woman's voice.  
Straightening her shoulders, she knocked at the door of 27 and entered, one hand ready on the wand in her coat pocket.

* * *

"How could you, George? She's only three, I told you numerous times that you can't leave a three-year-old unsupervised in your joke shop! Rose could've been seriously hurt!"  
"Hermione, I…"  
"Mother is beside herself! I was barely able to keep her from coming here but you should have seen her! I'm sure she'll send you a howler to the shop tomorrow!"  
"Ron, I…"  
That was the scene Narcissa stepped into. Three adults arguing and in the middle of it, little Rose who looked ready to burst into tears because of all the shouting. She didn't see any sign of George Weasley's children, so she assumed they'd been picked up by their mother or were playing in the waiting room once more. Wherever they were, it had to be better than here.  
"Excuse me," Narcissa raised her voice so she would be heard over the shouting, ducking beneath the younger Weasley's arm to get in between them and to her patient. "Enough! I am sure there is a lot you need to discuss but I would ask you to refrain from doing so in front of my patient. Don't you see that you're scaring her?"  
All three of them stared at the blonde witch in front of them and the sudden silence was almost deafening. Then, ruckus broke out once more.  
"You!" Ronald Weasley pointed a finger at Narcissa, his whole face turning red with anger. "What the hell are you doing here in my daughter's room! Do not get near her, you filthy Death Eater bitch, or I swear I'll–"  
"Daddy," the meak sniffle of his child stopped Ron mid-rant. He quickly sat down on the bed next to his child and took her into his arms, turning his head to glare at Narcissa.  
"Get out," he hissed through his teeth, hatred swirling in his eyes like dark tornadoes.  
Narcissa took a last glance at the little girl and – reassured that the adults would be calm in her presence now – quickly left the room.  
She really needed a coffee now, or better yet, a cup of chamomile tea to calm her nerves…

* * *

However, she didn't get very far before a hand on her shoulder stopped her in her tracks.  
She whirled around, almost certain that it was the Weasley boy seeking a fight, and was surprised to be met by the warm brown eyes of Mrs. Granger. Or Weasley, she supposed.  
"Mrs. Weasley, did you have any questions about your daughter's condition?"  
"Oh, uhm, no," the young woman shook her head. "I actually wanted to apologize for Ron's behavior. I know you and I don't see eye to eye either but what he said was unnecessary and unprofessional. When George owled us earlier, he said that Rose had a great healer and that she was really brave for the examination. And Rose hates hospitals and healers ever since she was treated for the Wheezing Fever when she was a baby… So thank you. I really appreciate what you've done for her."  
"I was only doing my job. But thank you. Rose should be good to go in the morning once I've done my last rounds. The nurses can move a cot into her room if either you or Mr. Weasley wish to stay."  
"That won't be necessary. I'll share the bed with Rose, she won't want to sleep alone anyways."  
"Very well. Good night, Mrs. Weasley."  
"It's Granger, actually," the young woman corrected her. "I didn't change my name. Rose's is Granger-Weasley... For your files?"  
"Of course. And it's Black, not Malfoy."  
"Good night then, Healer Black."  
Narcissa nodded at the brunette and continued on her way to the staff room. That tea was still calling for her and she had to be sure to make use of that minute of quiet before the next rush of patients would surely stream into the hospital. Night shifts were often the busier ones, especially at the weekends.

* * *

Another eight hours later, a tired Narcissa made her way to little Rose's room after signing the release papers of a happy and finally fur-free Mrs. Thistle.  
It was now just after 7 a.m. and it was high time that she got home and into her bed. Fortunately, Rose was the last patient on her list. It was a rarity that Narcissa could leave St. Mungo's at a scheduled time. Her shift had ended half an hour ago but if she still had patients to see to, the blonde often stayed a little longer.  
After knocking on the door to 27 and receiving a firm "enter", Narcissa stepped into the room to be greeted by a cheerful "Good morning" of the three-year-old.  
"Good morning to you, too, Miss Rosie," Narcissa smiled at the child. "Mrs. Granger."  
"Good morning, Ms. Black," the brunette replied, looking almost as tired as Narcissa felt. She was sitting on the bed with her head resting against the wall and her daughter splayed out on her lap.  
"Did you sleep well, Rose?" Narcissa returned her focus to her little patient, pulling her wand from her coat.  
The redhead bobbed her head. "I did."  
"That's good to hear, I know it can be a little strange to sleep at the hospital with all the new sounds and everything."  
"I'm a big girl already," Rose puffed out her little chest as she climbed off her mother's lap. "But can I still go home now?"  
"Let's see, shall we?" Narcissa moved her wand along the child's stomach and limbs. There was no trace of the sweet to find so it was safe to say it had been properly digested. Other than that, she didn't find anything that arose any suspicions. "Everything looks good so far," she stated for both child and mother's sake. "Can you hold onto her please?" she requested from Mrs. Granger, nodding her head at Rose. "I'll lift the Gravitas from her feet. I'm quite certain she won't be floating any longer but just to be safe."  
"Of course," the brunette gently wrapped her arm around her daughter's torso and waited.  
Once more, Narcissa lifted her wand and muttered a quick but clear "Finite", ending the spell.  
Slowly, Hermione Granger let go off her child and nothing happened. A relieved sigh escaped the younger woman's throat.  
"So are we good to head home then?"  
"You are," Narcissa confirmed, earning a big smile from the little girl. "But first," she tapped her wand against Rose's nose as she'd done the night before, once more letting tiny stars appear, "First you have to tell me the secret of your magic sneeze."  
"I didn't sneeze, that was all you!" the girl giggled happily.  
"Huh, I could've sworn that was you, little Miss." Narcissa tucked her wand away. "Would you like another lollipop?"  
"Can I, mummy?"  
"Sure, Rosie."  
Smiling, the girl accepted the lollipop from her healer's hands. "Thank you."  
"You're very welcome. Now, I'd say see you soon but we don't actually want that, do we?"  
Narcissa and Rose both shook their heads.  
"No, I figured we didn't. Well, it was lovely to meet you, Rosie. Stay away from your uncle's sweets, will you do that for me?"  
"I promise."  
"Good." The blonde witch turned back to Mrs. Granger to find her looking at her rather oddly. However, it was gone just a moment later, so she wrote it off as a by-product of her sleep-deprived mind. "The release papers are waiting for you at the station's reception desk. Have a good day, Mrs. Granger."  
"You, too," the younger woman sounded sincere. "And thank you. Really."  
"It was my pleasure."

* * *

A few days later, one Hermione Granger was having tea and biscuits with her former teacher and head of Gryffindor house, when an owl arrived at the headmistress's office.  
"Anything important?"  
Minerva looked up from the letter and smiled at the young woman. "Ah, I wouldn't exactly call it important but it's good news. Narcissa wrote to tell me that Draco and Astoria are finally expecting a baby and that everything was looking good so far." She placed the letter on a side-table to reply to later.  
"'Narcissa'? I didn't know you were on a first name basis with the former Lady Malfoy."  
"Hmm, yes, I suppose you didn't," Minerva responded, silently musing at the curious interest she could easily detect in the witch's brown eyes. "Narcissa and I... formed a bond… if that's what the right word to call it, during her last year at Hogwarts. We became friends later and reconnected after the war."  
The old witch could see that Hermione longed to learn more but she wouldn't just hand her the answers on a silver platter. Because where was the fun in that? If she wanted to know more about her past with the Slytherin, she'd have to ask.  
"She treated Rose last week at the hospital after she ate something from George's joke shop," the young woman offered up a piece of information of her own, seeming rather lost in thought somehow. "She was great with her. You know how she hates hospitals..."  
"Ah yes," Minerva nodded, "Narcissa was always good with children. It always kind of saddened me to see her have just the one."  
"Rose is still talking about her," Hermione went on. "Yesterday, she even went as far as sticking a blue Bertie Bott's bean into her nose, speculating that we would go to the hospital to get it out." She shook her head in a mixture amusement and desperation. "She threw a temper tantrum after I simply accioed it into the trash can, yelling that she just wanted to go and see Healer Black."  
Minerva chuckled at that. "Ah, to be young and in love, Albus would say," she smirked. "Rose obviously has a little crush on Narcissa."  
"You're not helping, Minerva," Hermione rolled her eyes at the older witch.  
"Oh, I know," Minerva grinned. "But, if it helps you, at least your little one has good taste."  
"Well, that's still up for debate, I'd say."  
"Oh come on, what's not to like? Long blond hair, angelic features, clear blue eyes, good with children, smart, courageous, strong,… should I go on?"  
"You almost sound like you have a crush on her yourself," Hermione defiantly crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Have you forgotten what she did? Who she fought for?"  
Minerva sighed. "No. I have not. And as I am reminded each and every day, so have many others." She took a sip of her tea. "But… if you truly ask yourself… Whom did Narcissa really fight for? Voldemort?" The old witch made a dismissive gesture with her left hand. "No. This woman has only ever fought for the people closest to her. Her family. And as it so happens, that family ended up on the wrong side of the conflict, some more so than others. Can you really fault her for doing what she thought was best for her family, for her only child? We all know what happened to those who betrayed the Dark Lord. Just think of Severus… Voldemort wouldn't have stopped with Narcissa."  
"But…" Hermione opened her mouth to protest, then shut it. How could she argue with the case Minerva made for the blonde Pureblood? But still…  
"Say it, Hermione. You have not become the brightest witch of your age by accepting everything quietly and without argument. I can see you have something burning on your tongue."  
"I…" the young witch took a deep breath before she rolled up the sleeve of her shirt to reveal the scar on her left arm. "She just stood there... Watching what her sister did to me with her cold blue eyes. Indifferent to my screams and pleading. What kind of person does that?" Hermione met Minerva's intelligent eyes and the old witch could see the unshed tears in the girl's brown ones. Because yes, right in this moment, Hermione Granger was just a frightened girl, desperate for help as she was lying on the cold marble floor of Malfoy Manor.  
Minerva McGonagall gently wrapped her hand around the scarred arm, a deep sadness in her green eyes.  
"I am sorry child, for what has happened to you. And I am certain Narcissa feels the same way. But I cannot speak for her. – What I can see, is that the memories of this night are still deeply troubling you. Maybe you should seek her out and talk to her?"  
"Whatever for?" Hermione sounded more like a petulant child than the young woman she'd grown into.  
"You might be surprised at what she says. And you just might find some inner peace with your past. It isn't good to dwell on it too much."  
"I'll consider it."  
"Good. That is all I can ask of you." Minerva briefly allowed herself to stroke the brunette's cheek. "Now off you go, Mrs. Hermione Granger. I have little minds to teach and I am sure that little whirlwind of yours is eagerly awaiting you at her grandmother's."  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I hope she hasn't caused too much trouble for Molly. She really is a handful these days."  
"Don't forget that Molly Weasley managed to raise Fred and George as well as their brothers. I'm quite certain she can handle one cute little redhead."

* * *

 **AN:** _So you might've noticed I like to sneak in a little Minerva into my stories. She's a fun character to write and I hope you enjoy her appearances as much as I do._

 _What did you think of the hospital scene? And are you as curious about Minerva's relationship with Narcissa as Hermione is?_

 _Leave me a review - they make my day and my muse happy!_


	3. Chapter 3

"So how are you feeling, Astoria?"  
Narcissa and her daughter-in-law were using Narcissa's day off to stroll through Diagon Alley and do some windowshopping. It was a relatively nice early summer's day and both of them cherished the chance to spend some time together. Ever since Astoria had been welcomed into the family almost seven years ago, the two had gotten along splendidly.  
The younger woman smiled as she rested a hand on her growing belly. There wasn't much to see yet but Astoria could feel her child growing with every day that passed. Her and Draco's little miracle. After two early miscarriages, they'd almost given up hope. But even though a lot could still happen, she was focusing on the here and now, on her healthy, living baby.  
"I was trying to be careful about getting too excited but I realized that it's too difficult. I'm just so happy that I will finally be able to give Draco what he wishes for the most. I know how much he's longing to become a father."  
Narcissa patted the brunette's hand. "Draco was a very sick newborn. The nurses and healers all told me not to get my hopes up but I did anyway. And look at him today; he's grown into a strong young man his mother can be proud of. Sometimes caution isn't the best option. It's all right to be happy. And I know you'll be great parents to this little one."  
Astoria stopped walking and briefly hugged the blonde. "Thank you, Narcissa. I'm truly grateful we've got you in our lives."  
"And I'm thankful that you lured my boy away from Pansy," Narcissa chuckled as they parted. "She's a nice enough girl but I'd hate to have to deal with her mother on the holidays." She rolled her eyes. "Therese Parkinson is not on my list of favorite people after what she did to my sister. She was the one who outed her relationship to that Muggleborn boy, Ted Tonks… Told it to her little friends and basically the whole school. Andromeda was gone the day after, she never finished her seventh year."  
Astoria nodded in understanding. She looked at Narcissa and worded her next question carefully. "Have you thought about reaching out to your sister again? I know it didn't exactly went well five years ago but her wounds were still too fresh… you know, losing her daughter and son-in-law, taking care of Teddy…"  
"I... have thought about it, yes. But I don't know if I should risk disrupting her life once more. Andy has always been the one of us sisters who held onto a grudge the longest. Maybe it is already past our time to reconcile. Maybe she can never forgive me for my part in the war. But, as I said, the jury's still out on that one. I'll think about it."  
"I am sure she would be happy to reunite with her sister now that the dust has settled. If you give her time."  
Narcissa smiled. "That would be nice. Now," she shook her head to get rid of the dark thoughts that were now swirling through her mind. "How about we go and have lunch at the Leaky Cauldron? My treat. I am positive that my grandchild is hungry from all the shopping by now."  
"That sounds great actually."

* * *

"Finish your chips, Rose," Hermione nodded at her daughter's plate seeing as the little girl had gone over to playing with her food instead of eating it.  
"But I'm not hungry anymore, mummy," Rose whined, half-heartedly picking up a chip and popping it into her mouth.  
"I told you not to order the 'Hungry Werewolf Chips', honey, do you remember? I told you it was a really big portion and you wouldn't listen."  
"I'm sorry, mummy. But I really can't fit any more of them," Rose pointed a finger at her belly and scrunched up her nose. "I promise I'll order what you say next time."  
"Somehow I think I've heard this one before," Hermione good-naturedly raised a brow at her daughter. "I'll finish them for you. Can you go and wash your hands for me? Hannah is right over there, see?" She gestured at the Leaky Cauldron's new patron, Neville's wife and a good friend of her and Ron. "Alison and Frankie are right next to her, they'll go with you to the bathroom."  
"Okay, mummy," the small redhead hopped off her bench and sped away towards her friends. Alison was two years older than Rose but little Frankie was three as well and Rose and Neville's little boy had hit it off right away when they'd met at Frankie's second birthday. Hannah and Hermione often arranged play-dates for their children.  
Sighing, Hermione went to finish Rose's chips, thinking about how to approach Ron about what she wanted to talk to him about that evening. She'd already made her decision but she still wanted Ron to agree and be on her side. It wouldn't be easy.

* * *

Narcissa was just waiting for Astoria to return from the washroom – she remembered all too good how annoyed she'd been by her own bladder during her pregnancy with Draco – when her eyes fell upon a group of children playing between the long benches and high chairs near the bar.  
Smiling as she recognized one of them, she called out: "Hey little Rosie! Are you here to finally let me in on your secret of that magic sneeze?"  
She watched as the little girl whirled around, gave her friends the cold shoulder, and darted to where she was sitting.  
"Healer Black!" the redhead jumped excitedly on the spot. "I tried to come visit you at the hospital but it didn't work out. Once daddy caught me sneaking out of my room and then mummy just accioed the bean from my nose..." Rose briefly pouted at the memory of her failed attempts but the pout didn't last long. She had finally gotten to see her healer after all.  
"The story with the bean sounds terrific," the blonde witch smirked at the child. "And you know what? You should call me Narcissa. We're basically friends now, aren't we?"  
"Nar- Nars- Cissa?"  
Narcissa chuckled. "Cissa is fine, too. My sisters actually used to call me that. I know my name's a handful."  
"But it's pretty!"  
"Well if you say so, then it must be true," Narcissa winked at the child. "So, are you here on your own?"  
"No, my mummy is-"  
"Right here."  
The young girl comically drew her eyebrows together as she slowly turned around to find her mother standing right behind her, her hands crossed in front of her body as she looked down at her.  
"Oh oh…"  
"Yes, oh oh, you can say that again, Rose. I was worried, honey, you know you can't just run off like that. I was just talking to Hannah for a moment and suddenly you were gone."  
"I'm sorry, mummy..."  
"I hope you are." The brunette sighed. It was almost impossible how many nerves this child had already cost her. "Ms. Black," she finally acknowledged Narcissa's presence, forcing a slight smile onto her lips.  
"Mrs. Granger," Narcissa stood up and nodded in greeting. "I am deeply sorry for causing you any distress. I was the one who saw your daughter and called her over. I should've considered that someone might get worried about her. It was not my intention to scare you."  
"No harm done," Hermione shrugged it off. She was about to say her goodbyes when she remembered Minerva's advice and decided to take a leap of faith. The Pureblood would surely outright refuse to even meet her. "Ms. Black, it is actually a good thing that I've run into you. I was wondering if you would be up to meet with me."  
The blonde raised a brow at the younger woman, obviously wondering about the intent of her invitation.  
"To talk," Hermione clarified. "About the past and all that has happened. A mutual friend proposed the idea because she thought it would be good... But I guess it's stupid, I shouldn't have-"  
"I am free on Friday," Narcissa Black offered instead of – what Hermione had been anticipating – laughing at her preposterous proposition. "If you're available then, we can meet wherever you'd like."  
Hermione was speechless by the positive answer but finally managed to get the knot out of her tongue to respond. "I'd like that. I'll owl you? Do you still live at the Manor?"  
Narcissa shook her head no. "Draco and Astoria live there now. It is the Malfoy family home. I have moved back to my childhood home shortly after the two married. Castle Black, Onyx Cliffs. That's in North Yorkshire," she explained as an afterthought. "It is somewhat remote but your owl should have no trouble finding it. I suggest you do not send an old bird though, the winds can get rather strong all around the year."  
"I'll keep it in mind."  
"Mummy, can I come, too?" Rosie tugged at the rim of her mother's shirt. "I want to play with Cissa," she proudly used the witch's name. "She's my new friend."  
Knowing that the child would likely protest if the no came from her mother and wanting to spare the brunette further trouble because of her, Narcissa crouched down in front of the small redhead and smiled at her apologetically. "Maybe some other time, Rosie, yes? You know, it'd be really boring for you to come along because I won't have any time to play. Your mother and I have to talk about adult things."  
The little girl made a face. "I guess…"  
Just then, Astoria returned from her bathroom break, smiling at the newcomers.  
"Oh hello, I didn't realize I was away for so long that my mother-in-law had to find new company," she held out her hand. "I'm Astoria Malfoy."  
"Hermione Granger." The two witches shook hands as Narcissa got back up to her feet. "And this is my daughter, Rose. Say hello, honey."  
"Hello," the redhead replied shyly, burrowing into her mother's leg.  
"Hello Rose. It is lovely to meet you. I see you're expecting a little sibling," Astoria motioned at Hermione's protruding belly. "Are you excited?"  
The child bobbed her head up and down. "Yes, but only if it is a girl. All boys but Frankie are icky."  
The three women laughed.  
"Well, I'll cross my fingers then that you'll get a little sister."  
"We should be going, Astoria, we told Draco we'd be picking him up at work and we only have fifteen minutes left."  
"Oh, yes… I guess we should hurry then. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Granger."  
"You, too," Hermione replied. "Have a good day," she then addressed both women.  
"Thank you, Mrs. Granger," Narcissa responded with a smile. "And you and little Rose as well. I'll see you around, Rosie."  
"Bye!" Rose eagerly waved at her new friend, giggling when she winked at her before she left.  
As she watched the two women leave the pub, Hermione Granger was wondering if she'd just made a big mistake. Still, she was standing by her decision to meet the older witch and would ponder the details later that day. Maybe after she'd spoken to Ronald.

* * *

"No way, Hermione!" Ron was pacing through their living room, shaking his head. "You can't go back to work. Rosie is only three and what about the baby? You'd have to take leave in a few months anyway!"  
"Rose is old enough to either go to a Muggle kindergarten or to spend a couple of hours each day with that nice Squib lady Harry and Ginny sometimes bring the children to. And the little one isn't even born yet. I want to work, Ron, don't you get it? I'm not your mother, I never said I'd become your stay-at-home housewife when I said 'I do'. I want a life apart from raising our children!"  
"A Muggle kindergarten? You can't be serious, Hermione! Our child is a witch! Why should she play in the sand with some filth-" Ron broke off and stopped his pacing, realizing the grave mistake he'd just made.  
"Go on," Hermione's voice was low and calm. Ron knew that that was when his wife was the most dangerous... "Finish your sentence."  
"Mione, you know I didn't mean it like that, I just don't want Rosie out of our house." He raised his hands, trying to placate her. "Mum's raised all of us at home, it just isn't right that my daughter would have to do without her mother when I'm earning enough money for her to stay at home with her."  
"I was one of those filthy Muggle children, just for your information, Ronald. Do not think I've forgotten about that," Hermione stood with her hands on her hips. "And this isn't about the money, I just wish you would get that. I'm not trying to make you feel less of a man – I know perfectly well that the money you bring home is more than enough for us. But I want to work! I want to learn new things and help change our society!"  
"I just don't understand why you would put the society above your own family!"  
"It isn't either or, Ron. I can be a great mum and a working mum at the same time. And just so you know, I've already told Kingsley I'd be back on Monday. I just had hoped that you'd see reason and that you'd maybe even be happy for me… But I guess that's just too much to ask.." Hermione shook her head, tears of disappointment were running down her cheeks. "Don't wait up for me. I'll spend the night at Harry's." With that, Hermione stepped into their fireplace and flooed to Grimmauld Place no. 4, knowing her friends would welcome her with open arms.

* * *

 **AN:** _Oops... I didn't just start ruining a marriage, did I? Huh. Sorry, not sorry. I love you, Ron Weasley but Hermione just isn't the one for you. You'll see that in due time._

 _So people, how did you like the new chapter? Any comments on the Astoria/Narcissa dynamic or anything else really? I'm always curious about your thoughts. And gods, I hope someone is even reading these notes of mine._

 _I had the story written up this far but you won't have to wait terribly long for the next chapter - Hermione and Cissa's meeting, yay! - it should be ready by Wednesday or Thursday the latest, maybe earlier._

 _Thanks for the lovely private messages I received from **Beagle Brother** and **HerCissa** as well for the reviews by **HerCissa, Ragamuffin47, Cath** , the anonymous **guest** , as well as **Millifer97** \- You guys seriously rock. Oh and good to see some old familiar faces in the favorites and follows list. You know who you are. :-)_


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** _Got this finished early, so I thought "Why let you wait?" - Be warned, it's a long one and rather emotional, I'd say. But I know most of you like em long. Enjoy :-)_

* * *

Five days later, Hermione was getting dressed for her 'date' with Ms. Black. Or rather, trying to get dressed. Because so far, she couldn't decide on what to wear. Draco's mother still dressed as the Pureblood she was, elegant, classy, and timeless.  
And Hermione, even though she knew that it was silly of her, wanted to show her that a Muggleborn could dress just as well. She didn't want to seem or feel inferior. Tonight, she wanted to look impeccable and feel impenetrable.  
However, that wasn't exactly easy to accomplish, being at the end of her second trimester. Hermione knew that people always said pregnant women looked more beautiful than ever and that they seemed to glow but today of all days she just felt fat, uncomfortable and gross...  
She was close to tears – damn those devilish hormones! – when she finally found an outfit she could live with:  
The knee-length pale pink dress she'd worn to Luna's wedding when she was pregnant with Rose. She paired it off with a pair of bronze heels and tiny hoops of the same color and twisted her hair – which she'd taken the time to straighten earlier – into an elegant updo.  
Content with how she looked, Hermione nodded at her reflection in the mirror, took her purse and walked out of the bedroom.  
"Where are you going?" Ron asked from where he was sitting on the sofa, watching Muggle TV, suspiciously squinting his eyes at his wife.  
The four words only adding up to the maybe twenty he'd spoken to her at all since their argument, Hermione decided that she didn't owe him an answer.  
With a short "Out" and a daring raise of her eyebrows, she left their apartment, refraining from slamming the door as he'd done in the days prior. She was not getting down to his level.  
Outside of their apartment building in Southwark, Hermione rounded the corner into a lesser traveled alley and disapparated.

* * *

A moment later, she reappeared with a quiet plop in front of an old but imposing mansion that was sat at the edge of dark cliffs. The wind was pulling a few strands of hair free from her bun as Hermione made her way towards the tall iron gates, looking left and right to take in the rough but beautiful landscape that surrounded 'Castle Black'.  
After a long time of pondering it over, Hermione had eventually decided that it was the best place to meet Narcissa Black. Her own home had been out of the question because of Ron – Merlin, he would've thrown a huge fit if she'd invited the mother of the man he considered his archnemesis for supper – and every other place she'd come up with lacked the privacy she felt was needed for the topics she wanted to bring up.  
So Castle Black it was.  
She was aware that it gave Narcissa the 'home bonus' but it really was the only viable option.  
Doing as she'd been instructed, Hermione called out for a house-elf called Sibby.  
"Ah, you must be Mrs. Granger," an old female house-elf appeared in front of her not a second later, smiling up at her and surprising Hermione with its appearance. Unlike pretty much most elves, this one was wearing comfortable looking leather shoes and a tiny maid's uniform complete with a little white apron as well as a frilly hat. Sibby must've been the cutest house-elf Hermione had ever seen.  
"The Mistress is expecting you," Sibby continued, opening the iron gates with a flick of her wrinkled hand. "Please follow me and do not touch the gate. It closes on its own and it is still pulsating with dark magic that would hurt you. The Mistress has yet to find a way to break the spell. Sibby knows she's been working hard to find a solution."  
Now Hermione understood why the blonde had written that she should not go near the gates before she'd called for the house-elf. It was a precaution, not an act of showcasing her superiority as Hermione had initially suspected.  
Staying clear of the gates, she quickly followed after the house-elf.  
In the foyer of the Black family home, Hermione already found her hostess to be waiting.

Narcissa Black was elegantly dressed but not nearly as elaborately as Hermione was used to. The blonde was wearing a simple pair of high-waist black slacks, a white blouse, and silver sandals; her hair was open and falling loosely over her shoulders; there was no jewelry to be found besides a thin silver necklace which's pendant was hidden inside of her cleavage. She still was a vision of beauty and grace, maybe even more so than on the other occasions Hermione had seen the other witch.

Suddenly, Hermione felt stupid and uncomfortable and overdressed.  
However, Ms. Black immediately snuffed out those feelings.  
"Mrs. Granger, I am glad you've arrived safely. And allow me to tell you how very beautiful you look tonight." The blonde openly smiled at Hermione who couldn't help but smile back.  
"May I take your coat?"  
"Thank you," Hermione responded, slightly flushed by the compliment. Ron hadn't told her how beautiful she looked since... well… she couldn't even remember. "And yes, please."  
She was about to shrug out of her coat as her hostess swiftly stepped around her and helped her out of it. The action only made Hermione blush more. "Thanks."  
She watched as the blonde hung her coat onto a coat rack behind the door before she turned to the elf.  
"Thank you for escorting Mrs. Granger into the house, Sibby. I've taken care of all the necessary preparations for dinner so you'll only have to bring in the dishes once we're ready to eat."  
"Sibby could've done that, Mistress," the old elf shook her head disapprovingly, her tone as though she was scolding a child. "Whatever for do you have me if you do everything on your own?"  
"I don't 'have' you, Sibby, I employ you. There's a difference. And you know I like to take care of some things myself. I cannot sit all day in my armchair reading and twiddling my thumbs."  
"Well, you certainly should. Mistress Druella never did any housework."  
"I am not my mother and these are different times," Narcissa shook her head at the stubborn elf. "I shall call for you later, Sibby." She turned to Hermione. "Would you follow me into the yellow salon, Mrs. Granger?"  
Hermione only managed to nod, still somewhat dumbfounded because of the conversation she'd just witnessed. Obviously, there was a lot to learn about the youngest Black sister. And Hermione found herself curious and eager to uncover more of her personality and secrets.  
Maybe this meeting wasn't such a bad idea after all. Surely the woman needed to have some reparative qualities if Minerva put up with her company and even seemed to enjoy it. They were friends after all.

* * *

"Would you like some tea, juice, anything?" the blonde witch asked as soon as they'd sat down on the mustard colored Victorian sofa.  
Hermione could see why someone would call this room the yellow salon. It was a rather small room that had several tightly filled bookshelves on two walls, a thick and oriental looking yellow carpet on the floor, and the sofa they were currently sitting on at its center. The heavy curtains, pillows, even the picture frames on the walls – everything in this room was held in one or the other shade of yellow and gold, making it look like it had been dipped into warm sunlight. It was rather inviting, she had to admit. Another thing she hadn't expected.  
She'd expected Castle Black to be dour and dark.  
Obviously, the other woman had taken notice of her surprise.  
"I've changed most of the house's interior over the past years," Narcissa Black explained with a wave of her hand to encompass the room. "I've kept most of the floors the way they were but almost every wall has been painted or gotten a new wallpaper. Some of the furniture I merely transfigured but I also bought a lot of new things. During my childhood, Castle Black was a very fitting name for our family home." She slightly shook her head. "Now, what can I get you to drink? Have you decided?"  
"Uhm, tea would be nice, thank you."  
The older woman nodded at her and accioed a tray holding a pot of tea and two cups made of beautiful china to the coffee table in front of them. She was obviously well prepared for her visitor.  
"Is Earl Grey all right?"  
"Yes, thank you."  
"Milk, sugar?"  
"No, I usually take it black."  
"A woman after my own heart," the blonde smiled and poured two cups of tea, handing one to Hermione.  
Hermione who couldn't help but feel awkward, sitting here and chatting with Malfoy's mum as though they did this every Friday. And she also couldn't help but be somewhat irritated by the formal tone of everything. This wasn't a date for afternoon tea and idle chit-chat after all.  
"Ms. Black, I…" Hermione placed the tea cup back onto the golden tray, meeting the woman's blue eyes. "I didn't come to exchange niceties or polite small-talk. I-"  
"You came for answers," Narcissa nodded, following suit and putting her cup away as well. She seemed calm and ready to face the young woman's questions. "Very well. I will answer everything I am able to. Ask away, Mrs. Granger and don't be shy."  
Oh, Hermione had no intention to be shy. None at all. She shot her first question at the other witch, not having to think about it. It really was the only question she'd ever needed an answer to. "Why? Why didn't you at least try to stop your sister from hurting me? Why did you just stand there, staring at me with cold indifference whether I lived or died, whether I was in pain or tears?"  
The Pureblood's face visibly darkened. "I had hoped you would save this one for later," she sighed heavily. "Very well. Let's get the hard stuff out of the way, shall we? I uh, I prepared for this particular question should it come up. I would like to show you if I may?" She made a motion with her wand hand and a pensieve floated into the room, already holding a silvery liquid that Hermione knew contained extracted memories. "My grandfather Pollux's old pensieve. I never thought I'd ever use it. He enchanted it so one doesn't only see the memory of a person but relives it through that person's eyes. It can be quite an emotional experience..."  
Hermione studied the pensive and the memory whisps that were swirling through the water. Was she really ready to witness the most painful night of her life through the eyes of the woman sitting next to her?  
After another moment of silence and deep thought, Hermione nodded at the older witch. It seemed to be the best solution after all. Memories couldn't lie, tongues however could. And she wanted the truth, however hard it might be to hear. Or experience, she reckoned.  
"I'll do it. Take me back in time."  
The blonde straightened her shoulders then beckoned her forward. Together they immersed their heads in the pensieve and fell through time and space.

* * *

 _Pensieve_

If someone had asked Hermione how she thought she'd feel inside of the head of someone else, she wouldn't have had an answer or would've suggested that every mind probably felt the same. However, the first thing she felt as soon as she'd landed in Narcissa Black's or rather Malfoy's past consciousness, was constricted. Utterly constricted, caged in her own mind. No, not her own. But at the same time it felt as though it was her own and she supposed for the time being, it was.  
Not wanting to interfere with her experience of the older witch's mind and feelings, Hermione forced her own mind to step back, somehow managing to occlude it until only Narcissa remained and Hermione was gone.

* * *

Narcissa watched as her sister pulled the Granger girl to the middle of their drawing room by her long brown curls and pushed her to the floor.  
The girl whimpered but, Narcissa had to give her credit, no tear escaped her eyes. Yet.  
She inwardly shuddered at what her sister might do to the young woman, a girl not older than her Draco, but carefully kept her features in check.  
She wondered briefly what had happened to take away her beloved Bella's humanity but had to remind herself that she already knew the answer. It wasn't the first time by all means that she'd pondered that exact question.  
Cygnus had happened to her. Rodolphus had happened to her. Tom Marvolo Riddle had happened to her.  
The men in her life had utterly broken the loving big sister she'd grown up with and left something behind that – most days – didn't bear any resemblance to the Bellatrix she'd adored and looked up to until their late teens.  
She cringed as her sister pulled her wand from her sleeve and hit the girl with the first "Crucio". Undoubtedly, today was one of these days. They'd become countless ever since Bella had escaped from Azkaban to rejoin her Lord's side.  
She forced herself not to avert her eyes as the girl started to scream and she hoped that Draco was following her example. Lucius wasn't allowing any weakness from his heir and she knew he'd punish their son if he showed it. Not to mention Bella.  
It was strange how the adoration for her sister could have turned into fear but she didn't question that development any longer. It was easier just to live with it.  
She'd tried to think of anything else but the girl suffering on her floor but found that it was difficult to blend out her screams and even impossible to focus on anything else once she saw her sister pull out the cursed knife that had once belonged to their father.  
Cygnus had once used this very knife to severe the head of his youngest's favorite house-elf after deciding that she cared too much for the inferior creatures. It had been the last time she'd cried or showed any weakness for a long time. She only remembered crying the night before her wedding to Lucius and in the hours after Draco's difficult birth after that point in time. Her father had taught her that tears were of no use. That they were unseemly for a Black.  
Pushing the painful memory to the background of her mind, Narcissa drew in a sharp breath at seeing her sister crouch down over the Granger girl, ripping off her left sleeve, a mad glint in her dark eyes. The eyes of their father. Both Bellatrix and Andromeda had inherited them. She was thankful to not have to see him whenever she looked into a mirror. Her mother hadn't been a saint but at least she had - as far as she could - genuinely loved her children.  
Trying not to care what happened in front of her eyes and utterly failing, Narcissa knew that this time around, she couldn't merely stand witness to her sister's crimes, she had to find a way to help.  
A way to help without anyone noticing, least of all Bellatrix.  
She chanced a sideways glance at her son and found silent tears streaming down his pale cheeks.  
She could not endanger her son, therefore speaking up and trying to divert her sister's ire or to try and sweet-talk her was not an option.  
Finally, just as Bella touched the cold knife to the girl's flesh, ready to draw blood, Narcissa remembered an old spell her grandfather had taught her back when she was sixteen. She'd never actually used it but with some luck, she thought this could actually work.  
'I am sorry, I cannot do more for you, Ms. Granger. But as an old saying goes, shared pain is half the pain,' she thought to herself before gripping tightly onto the wand in her sleeve and quietly mumbling "Dolorulcus Transmissimo".  
Not a second after, the pain began. A searing, burning pain accompanied by a wetness she knew to be blood and the inhumane screams of the teenage girl her own sister was torturing. The screams and the pain weren't the worst of it all though. Narcissa had gone through worse, growing up as the daughter of Cygnus III Black. She almost laughed out loud at the brief thought that she was actually thankful for her father's cruel and sadistic nature which had perfectly prepared her for quietly taking the pain as she felt her skin being teared open.  
No. The pain was not the worst.  
The worst were the pleads the girl managed to choke out between sobs and the desperate brown eyes that seemed to bore into her very soul. She knew she would never forget those eyes. They would haunt her for eternity.  
'Hermione Granger,' she thought once more, hearing how her own son's quiet sobbing joined the cacophony of horrors. She would have to draw Lucius's anger to herself later, make him forget about his son's "shameful" behavior. 'I am sorry.'

 _End of Pensieve Flashback_

* * *

Hermione withdrew from the pensieve with a desperate gasp for air, feeling as though she was drowning in between the waves of her own and the witnessed emotions.  
Her eyes wildly darted through the room, playing ping-pong between the blonde's thankfully covered left forearm and her own.  
Breathless and simply wanting to flee everything that was crushing down on her, she jumped from the sofa and darted from the room as fast as she managed in her condition, even forgetting about her cloak and the cursed gates as she ran from the house.

"Sibby, quickly, go and open the gates!" Narcissa cried out inside of the house, knowing she herself wouldn't get there in time.  
She sighed in relief when the elf returned to her side seconds later, informing her that her Mistress's young guest had been kept from harm.  
"I reckon Mrs. Granger won't return for dinner?"  
"No, Sibby. No, she won't. I feel I've quite lost my appetite myself... Please help yourself to anything you like. I'll be retiring for the night."  
"Of course, Mistress Black. Sibby will take care of everything. Is there anything else the Mistress will be needing?"  
"No," Narcissa tiredly rubbed her aching temples. "No, thank you."

* * *

At Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall was about to close her book and get ready for bed – after all she had to rise early the next morning to get everything ready for the older students' day out in Hogsmeade and the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw in the evening – when urgent knocking came from her door.  
Expecting the worst because Friday evenings as the headmistress of Hogwarts were rarely ever peaceful, she let her book clatter to the floor in her haste to see who was on the other side.  
Imagine her surprise when she found a flawlessly dressed but sobbing former student and friend in front of her instead.  
Minerva pulled the shivering girl into her rooms and as soon as the door was closed behind them, Hermione Granger fell into her arms, a crying mess that seemed torn between seeking her comfort and hysterically hitting her.  
"This is all your fault!" the young woman accused her while Minerva tried to get her to hold still, feeling rather helpless with the situation at hand. "You told me it would be good for me! You knew! You had to know! You're her friend..."  
The old witch's green eyes widened as she realized what Hermione was talking about.  
With much effort, she finally managed to guide her to sit in the armchair she herself had just vacated, kneeling down in front of her and placing her hands on her stocking-clad knees in the hopes of calming her.  
And after another five to ten minutes of breathless sobs and accusations, her efforts finally bore fruit and the brown eyes met her own, teary and emotional.  
"Why didn't you tell me what she did, Minerva? Surely you must've known?"  
"I've gathered so far that you are obviously talking about Narcissa and that the two of you spoke but dear, I really don't understand what you are trying to say? What is it that 'I must've known about'? And why are you so upset? I know it must be unsettling to hear her side of the story but–"  
"She bled for me," Hermione interrupted the other woman, the statement whispered and terrifying. Her eyes wandered to her left forearm; the crude carving had paled over the years but it was still visible for everyone who looked and even those who didn't look for it. "She shared it. She shared it all. The pain. The blood. The scar. She bled for me."  
"Hermione, dear, you're not making any sense. What are you talking about?"  
The young woman looked up from her scar, a faraway look in her eyes. "Narcissa. She used a spell to share the pain with me. Half the pain. The same amount of blood. The same scar. She didn't do nothing. It was everything. I… I saw it all in the pensieve… I felt both her and my own pain. I was inside of her head. I- I felt it all, Minerva. I felt it all."  
And as understanding dawned on Minerva McGonagall, she sadly blinked her eyes and gently pulled the overwhelmed young woman onto the floor and into her arms, sending a silent prayer to whomever would listen to give some comfort to Narcissa as well, knowing fully well that it couldn't have been easy to delve into her troubled past nor to share it with a stranger.  
To think that the blonde had done such a thing for a girl she'd been taught and supposed to hate because of her Muggle parents alone… it was sending shivers of great awe along Minerva's spine.  
Had she known about what Narcissa had done, maybe she would have tried to prepare them both for their conversation. But then – how do you tell someone that you share their scars? Was there even an easy, a gentle way?  
Holding the still crying Hermione to her chest, Minerva couldn't help but wonder how Narcissa and Hermione would react when they first saw each other after tonight.

* * *

 **AN:** _Well, I don't say this often, rarely ever actually, but I'm proud of how this chapter turned out._

 _Please leave me a review if you find the time, I'd love to see some responses to all of that is happening in this crucial chapter. And yes, some of you might recognize the spell from the torture scene from one of my older stories. It just had to go here, it made perfect sense to me. So I apologize if you're bored ;-)_

 _Thanks to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter so far ( **tattoedsappho, Cath, Raingirl49th, tears of the soul, Ragamuffin47** ); yours really cracked me up, **HerBella!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**AN** : _Weird one, this chapter. First it was too short, now I feel it's gotten slightly too long. I guess it has a life of its own._

 _Thanks to everyone who took the time and reviewed on the last chapter. Sadly, I am too tired to list all of you right now, but believe me when I say they were so much appreciated. It's your feedback that makes me want to write faster._

* * *

Narcissa found it exceedingly hard to fall asleep that night. She'd briefly considered to go and talk things through with Minerva after the young woman had stormed off, but had quickly abandoned that thought. She wasn't really one to share her feelings; maybe it was a character flaw she'd been born with, or maybe a byproduct of the way she'd been raised. Or maybe it was a combination of both.  
Feelings weren't her strong suit and despite regarding her son, she rarely ever gave into them and showed them openly.  
Feelings hadn't really been required throughout most of her life either. They'd been uncalled for during her childhood, a thing to be ashamed of, and she'd never developed any for Lucius, not for a lack of trying on her part though...  
Now she lay in her bed and her mind just wouldn't quiet, much like the howling wind and the waves that were crashing against the cliffs outside.  
She tossed and turned, finding every position uncomfortable, her silk pyjamas first too tight, then too loose, her covers too warm only to freeze when she tossed them away.  
However, eventually, when the first light of the new morning was already near, she finally fell into a light and troubled slumber.  
Only to be awoken by Sibby two hours later. A new day at work awaited her. And while she actually liked what she got to do, she would've preferred to stay in bed that particular morning. For once, she would've loved to take the graveyard shift.

* * *

In London, a three-year-old was standing in front of her parents' bed – which only contained her mummy; strangely, she'd found her daddy snoring on the couch in their living room – demanding that someone finally get up to make breakfast and play with her.  
Realizing that her mother was not going to get up anytime soon and knowing that her father was bad at making breakfast, little Rosie decided that this whole breakfast business couldn't be so hard and made her way into the kitchen.  
She pushed a stool against the counter and climbed on top of it, stretching her arms and trying to reach the cereal bowls her mummy kept in the cupboard over the sink.  
And just how it had to come, the child slipped, tumbled from the kitchen counter and hit her head on the stool.  
A screach, first of shock, then of pain, left her little throat and finally woke her father.  
Drowsily taking in the situation at hand – the gash on Rose's forehead and the tipped over stool – Ronald Weasley, still a little inebriated from the several bottles of beer he'd tried to drown his frustration in the evening before, raised a wand at his crying daughter and cast a quick 'Episkey'. However, because of his state, the word came out a little differently...  
"I-Ipishkey!"

* * *

Narcissa was already nursing a minor headache by half past 8. She was standing in the hallway, half-heartedly listening to Healer Ling's plans for the evening, well-aware that the other witch was hoping for her to invite herself to come along, and waiting for the nurses to finish clearing the breakfast trays from the patient rooms.  
She was just thinking about going to briefly check up on their resident Muggle couple in 23, when the sight of a panicked brunette who burst out of the elevator and had a red-haired child in her arms gave her pause.

Hermione Granger.  
Rose. Something was obviously wrong with her favorite little girl.

Before any of the other healers could even think about approaching the frightened mother, Narcissa shouted "I'll take this one!" and hastened towards Hermione Granger.  
"Mrs. Granger, what happened?" she asked, placing a hand on the younger witch's elbow and leading her into the closest available examination room.  
"She-She's unconscious and won't wake up," the brunette explained through tears, holding onto her child for dear life.  
Narcissa gently coaxed her to let go off Rose and as soon as the girl's back touched the examination table, she raised her wand and was running a series of diagnostic spells.  
"She tried to make herself breakfast while everyone else was still asleep... She uh, she fell from the kitchen counter and hit her head on the stool she'd used to get up there… Ron was sleeping in the living room so he got to her first. But-but since he was hung-over, he mispronounced the spell… I came in a moment too late... It sounded somewhat like 'Ipishkey'… God, why won't she wake up?"  
"Will you shut up for a moment? I'm trying to concentrate here," Narcissa impatiently snapped at the young woman, immediately feeling guilty and apologizing after the words had left her mouth. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Granger... that was uncalled for." She briefly touched the woman's shoulder. "I'm sure Rose will be perfectly fine. But I really need some quiet right now, okay? Can you do that for me?"  
The brunette nodded, nervously biting her lower lip as she watched the healer mumble spell after spell.

Her thoughts shortly went to Ronald whom she'd left at home in their quiet and empty apartment; he'd been in a state of shock after watching their daughter's eyes fall closed and her body go limp. And after Hermione's well-deserved rant, he'd retreated further into himself. It had been almost scary to watch him walk back to the couch and turn on the tv as though nothing had happened.  
Hermione hadn't had any time or nerve to deal with Ron though. She'd quickly picked up her unresponsive child and had apparated to St. Mungo's from the doorstep of their apartment building without caring who might be around to see her disappear into thin air. She'd arrived at the Spell Damage ward in record time.

"Mrs. Granger, can you hear me?"  
Hermione blinked as she noticed the pale hand that was waving through the air in front of her face.  
Blushing, she shook her head. "Sorry…"  
"It's quite all right. I know one or two things about being concerned about a child.." Narcissa gave the worried witch a small smile. "I can't find anything wrong with Rose besides the gash and bump on her forehead but I've spread a healing paste on her injury that will take care of both while you were lost in thought. I believe your husband's unsuccessful spell might've hit her with a little more force than her body could handle in its shocked state, which is why she fell unconscious. I can speed up her waking process with a spell, but I'd rather have her wake up on her own. It is your decision though."  
"I uh… Rose will be okay?"  
"That's what I just said, yes. The bump will recede by the hour, so it is likely Rose won't even know it was there in the first place by the time she regains consciousness," Narcissa smiled. "Children often have more luck than a goblin with a pot of gold," she winked. "It's something my grandfather used to say and I'd like to think he was right. – Would you like me to wake her?"  
"No," Hermione shook her head, finally being able to breathe again, knowing her baby girl would be just fine. She brushed away a few tears with the back of her hand. "Let her wake up on her own. If you say it's better for her, then I trust your judgement."  
Narcissa nodded. "Very well. I'll be back in a few, I just have to check on another patient quickly."  
Seeing that the blonde was on her way to the door, something inside of Hermione snapped and she rushed into the surprised woman's arms, embracing her tightly and clutching the rough fabric of her lime green healer's robes in her hands.  
It took a few moments, but eventually Hermione found strong arms wrapping around her in kind.  
"Thank you," the Muggleborn whispered, both of them knowing that her words weren't only for what she'd done for Rose just now, but even more so for what Narcissa had done for Hermione a little over seven years ago.  
"Thank you," the Pureblood echoed the words, knowing she was forgiven for everything she'd done or not done, at least by this one outstanding woman. It was more than anything she'd ever hoped for.  
"I uh, I really have to go and see if Mr. Edwards is doing all right," Narcissa eventually awkwardly extracted herself from the hug, pointing at the door. "I will see you afterwards. Rose definitely won't wake within the next ten or so minutes if you want to go and get yourself a cup of coffee or anything else. There's a charm on the bed, she won't fall off."  
"I… thank you, I might actually do that. It's been a long morning so far."  
"I'm sure it has. Mrs. Granger," the healer excused herself and left the room.

* * *

When the healer returned to the room fifteen minutes later, the bump on Rose's forehead had almost all but disappeared yet the little girl was still sleeping soundly.  
Hermione had used the past quarter hour to think and was now a woman on a mission. Before the awkward silence could even settle in, she addressed the older witch with a shy smile:  
"We uhm, we didn't get to have dinner yesterday... And I realize that is sort of my fault, so I was wondering if you were up to go to the Three Broomsticks tomorrow evening? Dinner's on me. I'd really like to talk to you about... well…" she trailed off as she spotted the questioning look on the blonde's face.  
"Mrs. Granger, I don't think-"  
"Please," Hermione interrupted the Pureblood before she could finish her sentence. "Don't say no. Please? I promise I'll even stay around for the meal this time." The smile on her lips became more full and confident as she saw the mouth of the other woman twitch upward.  
"All right, Mrs. Granger, Sunday it is."  
"Yes! – I mean, thank you," the brunette felt her cheeks flush. "And uh, there's actually one other thing I'd like to discuss..."  
The healer raised a brow at her, a silent request to go on.  
"Could we drop the formalities? I mean, my child already calls you 'Cissa' and I feel strange being addressed as Mrs. Granger. That was my mother, not me." A sadness darkened her features.  
"I suppose I can agree to that," the blonde held out her hand. "Narcissa."  
Hermione took the hand into her own and shook it, holding onto the pale fingers for a second too long. "Hermione."

"Mummy?"  
Both women whirled around to the bed to find a confused but awake Rose looking back at them.  
The little girl grinned happily as her honey brown eyes fell from her mother onto Narcissa, not caring why or how she'd come to be at the hospital in the first place.  
"Cissa!" She climbed off the examination table to run to her friend, hugging her legs. "Mummy, why didn't you tell me we were visiting my friend? I could've changed out of my pyjamas if I'd known!"  
Hermione and Narcissa laughed as the stress of the last 24 hours ebbed away, all thanks to a cheeky three-year-old.

* * *

"You're going out again?"  
Hermione looked at her husband who was once more sat in front of the tv, the remote control in his right and a bag of crisps in his left hand.  
"Yes. I am. I'm meeting a …friend for dinner. I'd appreciate it if you could stay sober, I don't exactly care for a repeat of Saturday morning."  
"That's unfair and you know it, Hermione," Ron glowered at her, the crisps crumbling under his firm hold. "You won't even tell me where you're going to or who with! What if I had already made plans with Harry or Seamus tonight? You can't just expect me to look after our daughter whenever you have a spur of the moment to go out!"  
"'Our daughter', yes, Ronald. Ours, not mine alone," Hermione replied through clenched teeth, her mood sinking by the second. She wasn't even feeling a whole lot like going out anymore. And that was probably what made her mad the most. She'd looked forward to this evening with a complex and interesting woman she was hoping to learn more about and maybe even call 'friend' one day. "I take care of Rose almost 24/7. I do not think I am asking too much here... Good night," she added the last part sarcastically and left their apartment, fuming with anger and disappointed at how little the man she'd married seemed to understand her.

* * *

"Ms. Bl– Narcissa," Hermione forced her lips into a strained half-smile when the blonde witch stood from their table to welcome her, even going as far as pulling out her chair for her.  
"Hermione," the older witch's smile came easily and it immediately made Hermione feel guilty.  
She'd been the one to propose going out for dinner and now she was probably in the process of ruining it for both of them due to her unpleasant mood. 'All thanks to Ron', she inwardly grumbled to herself.  
"Bad day?" Narcissa asked and Hermione sighed.  
If the other woman could already tell by looking at her for a short moment... well. She really had to up her game. It couldn't be so hard to be happy-go-lucky and have fun, right?  
"You can say that again," she admitted, rubbing at the back of her aching neck.  
"Bad days end – just like any other day."  
"Another wisdom of your grandfather?"  
The blonde shook her head. "No, this one's just common logic. Look, we can postpo-"  
"No! No, please..." Hermione shook her head at the suggestion. Now that she was sitting opposite of the Pureblood, leaving was the furthest thing on her mind. Her presence had a strange calming effect on her and Hermione wanted to bask in that feeling as long as possible, even if it was a bit selfish. "Let's enjoy our evening together and make the best of it now that we're already here. Have you ordered yet?"  
"No, I was waiting for you."

* * *

"So, tell me about your grandfather," Hermione prompted the other witch once they'd eaten dinner and had moved into one of the more comfortable booths of the inn. Her mood had considerably risen during the time she'd spent in Narcissa's company and she found their conversation to be flowing easily. "If you want to, I mean. He was the one who taught you that spell, wasn't he? And the owner of the pensieve? You've talked about him more than once in the short time I've known you, which makes me curious. Were you two close?"  
"'Close' isn't a word I'd use to describe our relationship. I was close with Andromeda, closer even with Bella." The blonde took a long sip of her wine. "Grandfather Pollux wasn't a nice man by anyone's standards but he was decent to me and never cruel. He… he was as much a defender of blood purity as most of my family. Which, of course, was a bad thing all on its own. But he never wanted to solve this "conflict" with blood and violence. He condemned what the Dark Lord did during the First Wizarding War."  
"Voldemort."  
"Excuse me?"  
"You were calling him 'the Dark Lord'," Hermione explained, seeing as the older woman didn't get what she was trying to say. "It is a term only his followers use… It is romanticizing his true nature."  
"I apologize. I didn't mean to cause you any discomfort. It is the name I have been using for over twenty years; it is hard to let go of old habits. I never really held him in high regard... He corrupted my sister and took her from me. And later on, once Draco was born, I constantly feared what he could do to him should I make a single wrong move."  
"You do not share your family's beliefs and ideals?"  
"Oh no, but I did," Narcissa shook her head. "I grew up thinking I was better than everyone else because of who my parents were. I realize how idiotic that sounds now. But it's how I was raised. 'You're a member of the noble house of Black, Narcissa. Always remember that. Toujours Pur.' My mother told that to me nearly every night before bed when I was Rose's age. It was the only goodnight story I ever got."  
"So what made you change? I know you do not stand by these ideals any longer. – Right?" Hermione met the blonde's intense gaze as she asked the question. The blonde's motivations and past had truly woken an interest in her. It felt almost as though she was back at Hogwarts, a young Muggleborn, eager to learn everything she could about the new and wondrous world she'd been thrust into. Except that that world was Narcissa now.

"Andy did," Narcissa began, slightly fidgeting in her seat. Her only remaining sister was a difficult topic for her. Uncomfortable even.  
"Andromeda?"  
"Yes," the older witch nodded. "I was barely fifteen when she packed her things and left. Andy was almost eighteen then. Therese Parkinson had caught her kissing Ted Tonks and found that there was nothing better to do than to let everyone know what she'd seen... I was deeply hurt back then that my sister had abandoned me and our family for a mere boy, that she left without finishing the school term, without even saying goodbye to me. Looking back, it was the only thing she could've done, there really was no other option. If she'd waited to face the wrath of our father..." Narcissa shuddered and nervously ran a finger along the rim of her glass. "At first I was so angry and hurt that she'd left me, that I couldn't see the bigger picture. Once I witnessed how father burned her face from Aunt Walburga's tapestry and how he made me and Bella swear never to speak her name again, I started to think. I wondered what was so bad about falling in love that you had to hide it from the whole world. I wondered what allegedly made Ted so different from us, so inferior. And I couldn't for the life of me figure it out. I began to question everything I'd been taught by the time I turned sixteen. Minerva was actually a great factor to changing me into the person I am today. But…" she smiled weakly. "I think that is a story for another day. Tell me what made you so upset."

Hermione blushed as she suddenly found herself at the center of the conversation. She wasn't sure if she should talk to the other woman about her problems with Ron, but she found that she wanted to.

There wasn't really anyone she could turn to whenever trouble appeared on the horizon of their marriage. Before they'd said 'I do', her and Ron had set a few ground rules. And one of them was that neither of them could go to Harry or Ginny if they ever had problems in their relationship.

And while that was definitely a good thing, it left Hermione with no-one to talk to about such things. If her parents were still around, she could talk to her mum but... no, she shouldn't think about her parents right now. That would only lead to heartache.

"I'm going back to work this Monday," Hermione said, feeling the excitement behind her statement and knowing that it was the right decision.  
"Let me guess, your husband doesn't agree?"  
"How did you know?"  
The blonde smirked. "I was married once, too. You might know him. Tall, long blond hair, an arrogant bastard, really."  
Hermione grinned. "Oh, I think I know someone who fits that description..."  
"I wanted to work and do something with my life once Draco was two and finally out of the woods," Narcissa admitted. "I knew that it was unseemly for a woman of my station to work but one day I still gathered all of my courage and approached Lucius about it. Do you know what he did?"  
Hermione shook her head, intrigued about the woman who'd been in a similar situation as she was now.  
"He laughed. He laughed at me, called me a foolish girl, then told me that I should go and check if Draco's diapers needed changing. And that was the end of that," the Pureblood sighed, the regrets still weighing heavily on her mind and soul. "I accepted it and never again tried to break out of my role. It needed a war for me to be brave enough to divorce him, a step I should've taken years earlier, but i was afraid of the social fallout. I've missed out on so much, Hermione," she took the younger woman's hand atop of the table and squeezed it. "Don't repeat my mistakes. You are the only one you are answerable to. No-one else. A valuable lesson I wish I'd learned earlier."

Hermione's eyes fell onto the pale hand atop of her own. Their joined hands created a strangely beautiful sight and it took a moment until she could bring herself to tear her eyes away from it.  
When she met Narcissa's blue eyes again, the woman raised a fine brow at her but she didn't retrieve her hand.

"I won't. I'm definitely going back to work. It was never up for discussion. I'm just disappointed that he won't even try to understand my standpoint. He's been mad at me all week. It feels as though I am married to a child... And then add Rose's little accident... It's exhausting."  
"Your Mr. Weasley holds astoundingly tight onto old Pureblood values while he condemns them at the same time, if someone from the wrong side believes in them."  
"That's actually quite the accurate description of Ron," Hermione had to agree with the blonde's assessment. "He's always been this way. Turning things around the way they suit him... I sometimes don't know why-" a startled sound escaped the young woman and she quickly withdrew her hand from Narcissa's, bringing it to her protruding belly.

The healer was worried for a moment until Hermione looked up, her brown eyes dancing with happiness.  
"Here," before Narcissa could react, her hand had been guided to rest on the Gryffindor's lower belly. "Do you feel that?"  
Narcissa tensed at first, but eventually she relaxed and let her fingers splay out over the smooth fabric of the brunette's dark shirt. A flutter, then another, this time even stronger.  
"A kick," she smiled at Hermione, reveling in the unborn child's movements.  
They stayed like this for quite some time and after only a short while, the young woman's own hand wandered lower, coming to rest half on her belly and half on Narcissa's hand.  
And Narcissa felt a sudden bout of warmth rush through her entire being, wondering what on earth that strange sensation was and what was happening to her.

* * *

 **AN:** _And there it is. The next nail for the Hermione/Ron coffin._

 _What do you think about this chapter and especially CissaMione's conversations at the hospital and the Three Broomsticks? Let me know!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry it took me so long to return to the story. I was very busy at work and couldn't find the time and (I have to admit) mindset to write. But now here it is, chapter six, and I hope you haven't given up on me yet.**

 **I think you'll like this one.**

* * *

At the end of her shift late on Monday evening, Narcissa found herself wandering through the quiet hallways of the hospital, eventually ending up in front of a door at the far back of the ward.  
She'd been standing in front of this very door more than a dozen times ever since she'd begun working at St. Mungo's but she'd never had the courage to actually open it.

Until now.  
Something felt different today.  
The usual fear and hesitation she felt whenever she got close to that particular door were notably absent and her hand wasn't quivering on the door handle but carefully pushing it down.

Softly, so as not to make any noise, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, shutting out the light from the hallway and plunging the room back into the heavy blanket of darkness and silence.  
Only for a startled and high-pitched gasp to escape her throat when she realized that a pair of eyes was eerily staring at her from the bed closest to the window.

Alice.  
She'd heard stories but to see her with her own eyes was an altogether different experience.  
Alice Macmillan had been a beautiful young woman with full rosy cheeks, curious eyes, short blonde hair, and a womanly figure. She'd been a vision of life itself, of vibrancy and youth.  
The woman that was staring right at her but also through her was only a shadow of her former self: Haggard, forlorn, pale, skinny, white hair, absent.  
She didn't move and she didn't speak, she simply kept staring as though there was nothing else she could do.

Then, suddenly, when Narcissa was starting to think that this had been a truly bad idea, Alice swung her legs over the bed and her bare feet hit the floor with a barely audible thud.  
She watched in something akin to a trance as her former classmate approached her, eventually coming to a halt only a few inches in front of her and holding out her right hand.  
Feeling awkward and uncomfortable because of the loss of personal space, Narcissa took step after step back until she hit the door. There was no escape from the dull, expressionless hazel eyes that seemed to see right into her very soul.

Both women stood rooted to their spots for what felt like eternity.  
Then, Narcissa finally placed her hand palm up beneath Alice's outstretched fist, waiting.  
It didn't take long for the thin greyish fingers to relax and to release the hidden object into her own hand, the empty plastic wrapper of a chocolate wand.  
As Narcissa's fingers closed around the gift, she thought, if only for the fraction of a second, that a tiny smile appeared on Alice's face.  
Staring from Alice to the plastic wrapper and back again, she felt the unmistakable prick of tears stinging in the corners of her eyes.  
Alice walked back to her bed as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened while Narcissa felt a heavy weight settle in her chest.

Bellatrix had done this. Her beloved sister whom she still couldn't help but miss dearly.  
What did it say about her, that she kept loving Bella, knowing what a monster she'd truly been?  
Taking a deep and heavy breath, she left the room that had become the home of the Longbottoms over twenty years ago, locking the past inside and escaping from the feelings that were trying to drown her.  
She knew the once pretty and insouciant Hufflepuff and her Gryffindor husband would be following her into her dreams for the days to come.

* * *

"How was your day, Rosie?" Hermione asked as she was tucking her daughter in, grabbing a book from the nightstand as she did so. "Did you have fun with your grandma?"  
The small redhead eagerly nodded, smiling. "Nana Molly let me help her with the garden gnomes! One of them bit her in her big toe, mummy!"  
"It did?" Hermione chuckled, remembering all too well how she had gotten rid of the little annoying gnomes for the first time. It was during summer break between her second and third year at Hogwarts. Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny had taught her various and highly entertaining techniques to get a garden gnome-free.  
She sighed. They'd been so carefree back then, so light, so happy.

"Mummy? Are you sad?"  
Hermione looked at her child, her beautiful, wild girl, and shook her head. "No, sweetheart, I am not sad. I am the luckiest witch there is and do you know why?"  
Rose bit her lip in thought. "Me?"  
"Exactly. Cause I've got you and your little sibling in my tummy."  
"And daddy!" Rose added, a big toothy grin on her face as she expectantly waited for her mummy to add it to her list.  
"And… daddy," Hermione added hesitantly. Once that sentiment might have rang true. But these days? It was as much a lie as 'the sun sets in the morning'.

Ron didn't make her happy anymore. It was the scary truth of what their marriage had become, a ball and chain rather than a warm cocoon. And Hermione wondered what that meant, if it had to mean something.  
Could she really leave Ronald? Didn't she owe it to Rose and the child growing inside of her to give their life together another chance? To try to make things good between them?

"Mummy, I'm tired… Can you read to me now?"  
"Of course, sweetheart," Hermione briefly shook her head to get rid of the dark clouds she felt brewing over her and opened the book on her lap. "Which one do you want?"  
"Uhmm… Rapunzel?"  
"Alright, Rapunzel it is." Hermione leafed through the heavy tome of fairytales, caressing the thick paper as she searched for the right page. She remembered how her father had used to read to her from this book every night and how her mother more often than not sat beside them on her bed, listening along. The fairytale anthology had been a gift from her grandmother, just a year before she'd passed away when Hermione was six.  
She'd always dreamed that her father would one day read to her own children and that both she and her mother would stand in the doorway of the nursery, listening to a proud grandfather tell stories to his grandchild.  
It filled her with unimaginable sadness that it would never come to pass.  
Running a hand through her daughter's red curls, Hermione began to read.  
"Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom,…"

* * *

 _Thursday_

"Hermione, what a pleasant surprise," Narcissa greeted the young woman with a smile.  
She'd been about to go to the staff room to eat the small lunch she'd packed, when she'd run into the other witch.

Studying the brunette, Narcissa realized that she looked exhausted. "Is everything alright?"  
"Yes, of course," Hermione smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes. It seemed forced.

"Is it Rose?" The Gryffindor shook her head. "The baby?" When there was nothing but silence, Narcissa felt dread well up in her stomach. "Is the baby alright?" She touched the young woman's arm and guided her to a chair with a soft hand on her elbow. Once Hermione sat, Narcissa crouched down in front of her.  
"Tell me," she implored the other witch.

"It's nothing, really..." Hermione eventually began, rolling her eyes at herself. "God, I feel so stupid." She made to get up but a gentle hand on her knee held her in place.

"Hermione..."  
"I have an appointment with my mediwitch today. I… Ron and I are still not talking and I didn't want to go alone. I realize now that it was stupid of me to come here…" she blushed and averted her eyes. "Ginny is away with the Harpies and Hannah's always busy with the kids and the Three Broomsticks, so I didn't want to ask her and–"  
"Hermione," Narcissa waited patiently for the younger woman to meet her eyes. "Did you come here to ask me to accompany you to your appointment?"  
It took a little while but eventually, Hermione nodded. "I did," her voice was small as she replied in the affirmative. "I shouldn't have. I know we're not friends, far from it even, and–"

Seeing the emotional turmoil in the brown eyes, Narcissa decided to put a stop to her suffering. "I quite like the idea of being your friend, Hermione. And if you really want me to come, I'd be happy to accompany you."  
"– I apologize for even thinking... What did you just say? ... Do you really mean it?"  
"Of course. What's the point of uttering things you don't mean?"  
A big smile spread on the Muggleborn's lips and shushed away some of the tiredness.  
"When is the appointment?"  
Hermione's face fell and she sheepishly bit her lower lip. "Fifteen minutes?"  
Narcissa chuckled. "Well then," she got up to her feet. "Let me just tell the nurses that I'm taking a longer lunch break today."  
"You're really coming?"  
"Yes, I said that, didn't I?" Narcissa shook her head at her new friend. "Wait here. I'll be back in five."

* * *

Hermione couldn't stop smiling.  
'Probably', she thought, 'one of the nurses will send me down to the psych ward soon, thinking I've lost it.'  
But she felt happier than she'd felt in a long time and her recent problems and troubles seemed far away for now.

Her first week at work had gone surprisingly well so far – it felt good to be back, to be a part of changing the Wizarding world for the better – and Rose was settling in nicely in the Muggle kindergarten. Today was Rose's third day of kindergarten and just yesterday, her daughter had told her how much more fun it was spending the day with lots of other kids instead of at her grandma's.  
Of course Rose loved her grandparents dearly but even garden gnomes and flying cookie brooms couldn't compete with finding new friends to play with.

The best part of her week however, was Narcissa claiming to be her friend and agreeing to come with her to her appointment.  
She couldn't quite fathom why, but somehow every kindness the blonde Pureblood showed her felt like being engulfed in a warm hug or sitting on the beach on a sunny day.  
Spending time with Narcissa was like nourishment for her soul.

"Ready?"  
Hermione looked up to see the witch she'd just been thinking about, a fine eyebrow raised at her.  
"Yes, I'm ready."  
With a smile, Hermione accepted the offered hand and let the older witch help her to her feet. "Thank you."  
"Don't mention it."

* * *

"Ah, Mrs. Granger!" Miss Ecklestone, the old mediwitch, excitedly greeted her as they entered her small practice in the basement of St. Mungo's. "And you brought back-up! How nice! It's always nice to have a friend along if the husband is unavailable! You can go straight into the examination room, I'll be right with you girls!"

Hermione and Narcissa exchanged amused looks before they entered the examination room.  
Hermione went directly behind the curtain to change but not before noticing the confused look on Narcissa's face.

"Miss Ecklestone is a Muggleborn," Hermione explained while she was struggling out of her jeans. "She offers both Muggle and Wizarding examinations for pregnant women and I always choose a mix of both."  
Realizing that this could make the Pureblood somewhat uncomfortable, Hermione stuck her head out from behind the curtain, only to find Narcissa staring at the gynecologic chair and the instruments on the table.

"I uhm… I should've mentioned it to you beforehand. I'm sorry, if you want to leave–"  
"No," Narcissa shook her head, moving her gaze from the strange chair to Hermione. "I'm perfectly fine, Hermione, I am a healer after all. I'm... familiar with a woman's anatomy and I've actually read up on Muggle pregnancy and childbirth about a year ago."  
"Oh."

"I am interested in every form of treatment. I actually think that we would highly benefit if we learned from Muggle medicine. I've been trying to communicate my idea to the head of the clinic but so far without success. It doesn't mean that I'll give up though. There are so many terrible maladies and illnesses… We should take every chance we can to find the best solution to treat and maybe even cure them."

"I uhm… " Hermione gulped down the lump in her throat. Narcissa's words had touched her more than she would like to admit they had. Here she stood, thinking that the blonde could be uncomfortable with witnessing a Muggle procedure, thinking that the blonde harbored prejudices.  
When in fact, the one with the prejudices seemed to be herself. "I never thought you'd be so open about the Muggle world," Hermione confessed, holding the blue-eyed gaze. "But I am glad you are. You truly are a special woman, Narcissa Black."  
Narcissa felt the treacherous heat spread into her cheeks but shook her head nonetheless. "It's nothing, really..."  
"I think it's everything."  
The two women stared at one another, getting lost in each other's eyes, sharing soft smiles.

Before the moment could turn awkward or something else entirely, Miss Ecklestone stepped into the room and broke them from their trance.  
"I'll be ready in a minute!" Hermione called out, her head disappearing once more behind the curtain to change into an examination robe.

* * *

"I still can't believe that this is a picture of your child," Narcissa smiled, her eyes glued to the 3d-sonogram she held tenderly between her right index finger and thumb. "Just look at these tiny fingers! This is incredible!"  
"It is…" Hermione dreamily agreed, even though her eyes were currently fixed on the exuberant smile on the blonde's face instead of the sonogram printout. Her heart was beating wildly against her ribcage and she began to suspect that it had everything to do with the Pureblood sitting next to her.

After the examination – which only had been a little awkward – Hermione and Narcissa had decided to go for a stroll through the park in the inner courtyard of St. Mungo's, seeing as the healer's break wasn't over yet.  
Eventually they'd settled on one of the many benches, sharing Narcissa's lunch after the older witch had insisted that Hermione needed to eat something.

"This is truly amazing," Narcissa continued to gush over the print. "I wish I could have one of these of Draco." She finally looked up from the picture. "Once Astoria is a little further along in her pregnancy, I'll definitely take–" Only now did Narcissa realize the strange expression on the brunette's face.

Time seemed to slow down and all the sounds from the tweeting birds to the patients' conversations seemed to ebb away until the only things she heard were her own heartbeat and Hermione's steady but somewhat rushed breathing.  
The two witches were slowly leaning ever so much closer towards each other until finally, Narcissa drew back and closed her lunchbox with a loud click, effectively destroying the bubble they'd been caught in.

"I uh… I should return to work now," she cleared her throat and swiftly rose from the bench, placing the sonogram in Hermione's lap. "I'm glad your little boy is doing well. It was nice seeing you."  
And before Hermione could even say goodbye or wrap her mind around what had just happened and especially what she was pretty sure had almost happened, Narcissa was already rushing away towards the nearest entrance to return to her ward.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter as well as the ones before. I'll make time to reply to each of them over the weekend! And, of course, thanks to anyone who's reading this - I'm writing for you.**


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